


Peter from Texas

by kunstvogel



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz, Office Space (1999)
Genre: Idk what to tag this as, It's kinda fluffy but not exactly FLUFF yfeel, M/M, Meet-Cute, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 23:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14779121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kunstvogel/pseuds/kunstvogel
Summary: Yassen meets Peter while on a job.





	Peter from Texas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mols](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mols/gifts).



> Uh, so this is a weird-ass crossover ship, but my bestie asked for it and how could I deny her something so outlandishly weird, yet so perfect?
> 
> My Yassen is 100% gay. Not relevant, but my Alex is bisexual.

After Air Force One, Yassen finds himself working much smaller-scale jobs. To MI6, Scorpia, and the rest of the world, he is dead; technically he never existed in the first place, but here he is, alive and...maybe not  _ well _ , but functional. A year and six months after his near-death experience, he finds himself in Austin, Texas, his target a general contractor overseeing the reconstruction of the office building for a computer parts company.

He stays in an unassuming motel near the construction site and takes his time getting to know every detail of the project. He had always been careful, but now he is even more so, not eager to make any mistakes so soon after the mishap with Damian Cray. He avoids Alex Rider, keeping tabs on the boy but staying away. He’d thought of Alex as a little brother, and he has paid his debt to John Rider. Any further interaction would be on neutral ground, and he’s happy not to step into  _ that  _ wasp’s nest.

When he steps into the scene, he’s dressed as one of the construction workers, with identification papers and all, and he slips in unnoticed. The kill is easy, and he’s wrapped up before the shift ends. But as he’s leaving he’s stopped by a burly man with long hair and a beard.

“Hey, man, why don’t you join me and Peter on our lunch break?” He points his thumb to a shorter dark-haired guy behind him who is quite handsome.

“Sure,” Yassen agrees, not wanting to seem too suspicious. He couldn’t escape now without questions. So he goes with Peter and Lawrence to a cafe nearby, and he finds he’s rather charmed by Peter, who recounts his get-rich scheme and how it had gone horrifically wrong, and how the company conveniently burnt down the next day, and oh yeah he’s single by the way- and Yassen isn’t usually interested in Americans, but Peter invites him over for dinner that night and he finds he can’t say no. One thing leads to another and they’re in Peter’s bed, tearing clothes off of each other, and Peter stops and looks over the scars on Yassen’s body.

“I was a soldier,” Yassen says, and it’s not exactly a lie.

Peter traces the scar on his neck, dropping his hand. He smiles warmly, lying back and letting Yassen straddle him.

“We should stop this,” Yassen murmurs.

“I don’t want you to stop.” says Peter. “I don’t care what it is, whatever this makes me.”

“Okay.” And Yassen leans in, kissing Peter.

Afterwards, Yassen stares up at the ceiling, caressing Peter’s shoulder.

“I have to leave,” he says, and Peter smirks, his eyes closed.

“You’re not a construction worker.”

“No.”

Peter cracks an eye, looking up at Yassen. There’s surprise there, in his face, but he is relaxed and unafraid. Yassen can imagine what he’s thinking, and he’s sure none of it is the truth.

“You should forget about me,” Yassen says.

Peter shakes his head. “How could I ever forget about you?”

“My name is not William.”

“I know it isn’t.” Peter’s opened his eyes now, is looking up at Yassen openly. “I could tell you didn’t belong there. You don’t look like a construction worker. Too pale.”

Yassen chuckles. “I’m a bit rusty,” he says, gesturing to the scar on his chest. “I was in the hospital for a very long time.”

Peter looks at the scar. “You weren’t really mugged, were you?”

“No,” Yassen says again.

Peter grins. “Well, whatever you really are, it doesn’t matter to me. You can keep being William and John and Dale. I’ll always be Peter from Texas.”

It’s an offer, Yassen recognizes, and he kisses Peter’s temple.

“I am Yasha from Russia,” he says, letting his accent slip free.

Peter smiles.


End file.
